The Burden of Companionship
by Konstantinsen
Summary: Maiev Shadowsong, former Warden of the Kaldorei Watchers, wanders without purpose until she hesitantly builds a friendship she does not want. Then again, she realises that being alone often drives the greatest of survivors to the brink of madness.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: _Warcraft III: The Frozen Throne_ was one of the first RTS games I have ever played (alongside _Command & Conquer_) and Maiev was one of the first characters that I actually admired given that the campaign was immersive at the time.**

 **So I was a little let down when I read on the Warcraft wikis that she ended losing it at some point. So I decided to make a story about her.**

 **Now, I have never played _WoW_ or any of its expansions. So when I was looking back the decade since _The Frozen Throne_ was released and by God, the Warcraft universe has grown so much that I could barely comprehend who is who and why Jaina is so pissed at the Horde and why Thrall is...**

 **So I said, let's escape the canon (or "lore" as some call it). So some references or areas or whatever may feel a little out of place because I wanted it that way. And also because I just did not have the patience to study the Warcraft world. (I'm still stuck in 2004, apparently.)**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy. And feel free to critic/criticise/critique.**

* * *

If there was a purpose that a soul was bound to, Maiev found none for herself. The Betrayer was dead and she had been his executioner. The very moment that Illidan Stormrage had ceased to breath had been the pinnacle of her life. And she relished it, savoring the second that the fel green light beaming through his folds faded and his mouth ran dry, blood pooling down his lips.

There was joy, yes. In her zeal, she had finally fulfilled her purpose, her very reason for existing... She was, to say the least, very happy. But, in truth, her heart was cold still. She thought that by dealing the final blow, she would be free of this anger, this rage, this hatred that she carried since the end of the War ten thousand years ago.

Alas, she realized to her horror that she was wrong. And her elation faded as easily as it came.

It was a rare feeling, elation. She had not felt in millennia. The very feeling of happiness itself...was so distant, harkening back to her days as an eager priestess hiding under silken robes. When she was still young and innocent and, like many Kaldorei, unwary of the Burning Legion stalking outside the realm of Azeroth...

Those days had long faded into memory, receding to the back of her mind as she trod along the roads of this dry and desolate wasteland. The cooked coals that served as gravel under the red sands of Outland singed through the leather of her boots though she had already grown accustomed to the burn.

She did not have anything left after leaving the holdings of her cell. Akama had not spoken to her since her release. When she passed by him on the way out, though, she could read the contentment in his eyes and she felt a twinge of guilt at the thought though she knew not why. There were no words exchanged between them and she left his temple without any direction at all.

Now, dragging herself blindly across the dry red sands, all she could do was look back at the events that had shaped the climax of everything in her life. She recalled the once proud gates of Suramar, the wondrous capital now forever a remnant of the evils of demons. The warm silken gowns of the priestess, the calm of the moon, the joy of living with nature... And the War... From her timeless years spent under the Barrow Deeps to the numerous nights that lapsed over her vigorous search for the Betrayer...

The Warden nearly tripped and staggered.

 _"Your Watchers are dead. There is no one to heed your orders, Maiev. There is no one out there who would listen to you...for they are all dead! Do you hear me? Dead!"_

Maiev nearly choked. She pulled her helm free from her head, letting her face finally bask under the dry sulfuric Draenor air. She coughed and wheezed.

 _"What are you trying to achieve for killing me? Do you think they will welcome you back home after what you did to Tyrande? Do you think they could so easily forgive you for your blind zeal?"_

His words rang forever in the hollow caverns of her mind. They bounced back against the fragile walls of her now empty heart.

 _"You may have killed me...but know this, Maiev..."_

She could not resist the painful truth any longer and it stung her throat hard enough to force tears. She broke down and crumpled herself against the foundation of a forgotten obelisk. Her broken whimpering was all that she could hear amid the howling winds.

 _"The huntress is nothing without the hunted."_

"Goddess, forgive me..." she wept.

She was nothing without him.

* * *

The Traveler found her asleep under the canopy, hidden behind the thick bushes that dotted the side of the road. Clad in the filthiest of mail and clothed by a singed, ripped mantle, he was surprised that no brigand had taken advantage of this bountiful target. Or perhaps he was the first person to come across this unkempt elf.

She was a night elf as was glaringly obvious. That made him uneasy as he did not want to earn the ire of the Kaldorei. The other elven races he could get along with but the Kaldorei...would have wanted his head if they knew his history. He hoped he would live long enough for them to forget his idiocies during his last visit to Darnassus two years ago.

That did not make him immune to pity and as such he set down his pack and settled close by, biting down on a ham sandwich he prepared in the last town over the hill.

When she finally did wake up, he braced for the end of the glaive that was brilliantly hidden under her. Not that his flesh would taste it though. She looked very volatile.

"It took you long enough," he greeted just as the umbra crescent sliced through the air and stopped inches short of his bare throat. He still swallowed the parcel of chewed meat in his mouth.

"Trouble me not or you will regret it," she hissed. Tiredly, he could hear.

"There is a tavern just beyond that hill if you want a place to lay your head," he said, completely ignoring her glaive by circumventing his arm under it to give himself another bite of his snack. He felt the blade edge away from his neck. When he finally looked up to rest his head, she was gone.

"Night elves," he muttered to the sky. "Wasn't my fault I pissed in the fountain in Darnassus... I was contributing to nature..."

* * *

 **ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: June 2, 2015**

 **LAST EDITED: June 11, 2015**

 **NOTE: The Traveler is a guy I made up. I don't even play _WoW_ so I'm going with the skill sets from _The Frozen Throne_.**


	2. Chapter 2

Maiev berated herself when she finally took shelter under a vacant roof. The house was decrepit and the owner was dead, his bones she found bleaching under the sun just beside the bend in the road. Bandits. But there were none as far as her eyes could see.

"Sloppy," she growled. That human should be glad she did not slice his head clean off. And he dared not even show fear even as she drew perilously close to ending his life. His lack of intimidation meant that she had dulled. Severely. "Very sloppy."

Only on rare occasions did she allow someone else to get the drop on her and most of them were her trainees. But she was not in the Barrow Deeps grilling new Watchers. Neither was she in Outland, baking under the grisly suns of the fragmented planet.

Rather, she was sitting here in an abandoned hovel where a vagrant would dream to lay his head. The cot looked comfortable. It called to her with the voice of a siren.

Part of her revolted at the thought of rest. But her whole body cried for it. And in her tired mind she acquiesced to lay her head on a softer pillow. The cot was layered with hay and dried dicot after all. Her hands went up to do undo the latches that held down her helmet. When it finally came off, she felt her sweat dry up against the breeze that flowed through the only window around.

A part of her screamed at the removal of her headgear. She could care less. It felt good to have her hair flow back down to her shoulders. Sweet cool air wafting under the chin, sweeping up the moist of her sweat after a long journey... Her attention had locked onto her beddings. After all, it was plainly obvious that no one lived here, let alone would bother to enter a crumbling shack...

* * *

This time, Maiev awoke just in time to catch the brigands sneaking far too close for comfort. These fools would pay dearly for attempting to rob a Kaldorei. No sooner had she stabbed the first bandit through the heart that the second one fell to the crescent that halved his lungs. Both dropped to the ground instantly, bright crimson fountaining against her cloak and mail.

There was a creak behind her and she moved quick enough to toss a dagger into the javelin thrower's right eye.

"You wench!" another yelled, jumping through the only window and knocking her down before she could block his lunge. She managed to inch her head away from the axe that came down close to her ear.

Then the bandit suddenly released himself from her—or appeared to have been yanked. She scrambled to her feet and saw a sword burst from his chest and retreat back through it.

"You again?" her savior lamented, kicking the corpse onto the floor. "What a coincidence."

Maiev snarled. "I never intended for us to meet."

"Neither have I," the human replied, wiping his blade clean before sheathing it. "You seem lost."

She retrieved her glaive but hesitated cutting him with it at the last second. "I have no time for this."

The Traveler saw her reach for her helmet, a cup of steel that mimicked the everlasting gaze of a hawkish night owl. "Nice gear," he quipped.

For a brief moment, she stopped dead in her tracks. Then she hastened to affix her cloak. "I have no business with you, human."

"Don't Blink away from me," he said. "I know your tricks, Warden."

As expected, he instantly felt her breath trickle against the back of his neck and the sharp edge of several knives pressing against the leather on his back. The words rolled of her tongue in brief, acidic, and, much to his chagrin, piercing hisses. "Who are you and how do you know me?"

"Only a certain kind of Kaldorei would sport such a set of armor," he replied in equally the same tone. "And yours in particular has no parallel even among your own people."

"You know much for a human."

Even as he felt her arm squeeze out his airway, he managed to let out a sigh that sounded halfway between vexed and grateful. "Your brother has been looking for you, Maiev. I could compliment his enthusiasm but at least I could tell Jarod the next time I see him that his sister is still alive."

The daggers bore deeper until he could feel the edges sting against the skin of his back. For being so haggard, he had to hand it to her; she had to be a tough nut to crack for surviving Outland...and constant trouble for the past millennia or so. Most everyone else he knew of didn't. "How do you know Jarod?"

"We were cohorts. He had this noble notion of gathering the lost and confused and giving them a second chance in life. We went places...doing things...working as, say, righteous mercenaries for two years. Then he decided to go find you; now and again, we ended chasing faulty evidence that a Kaldorei warden had come across this town or that—"

She tightened her chokehold on him. "How do I know that you are not lying?"

He was now struggling to make his voice heard, let alone catch his breath. "Miss Shadowsong, I would be dead years before I met you if I were lying..."

Maiev relented after a moment. The Traveler dropped to his knee, hitching and wheezing. She rounded him and when he stood up, he found her uncomfortably close to his face. The glow from the eye slits on her helm stung and he squinted.

"If I were lying to you, then I would have nothing to lose," he continued. "And I could see it plain as day that you yourself are lacking in direction just as he is."

She stared at him.

"Please give me my personal space, Warden," he belatedly asked.

She stepped back, allowing him air to breath without smelling her sweat.

"Thank you."

"Jarod hired you?" she asked, her voice lacking the authority and murderous malice that he had heard earlier.

"The pay was good. Though it was not really about the money." The Traveler pointed at the specs of dry red dust smeared all over her cloak. "It is difficult to wash away the stains of Outland. No doubt you have either succeeded or escaped. Personally, I am starting to think that you succeeded."

"You have no knowledge of such," she dismissed.

"You would have Blinked away from me if you were genuinely at peace with the matter." The Traveler followed her outside where dusk had given into evening. "Otherwise, you would need an ear to listen."

Maiev continued walking. "I have nothing else to say to you. Begone."

"Then why are you not distancing yourself from me?" the Traveler asked. "Now is your chance to Blink away."

Maiev wanted to. But she found that she was unwilling to do so. And she did not know why. So she chose to walk away. She heard him catching up.

"If you don't want me around, then kill me. Here I am. I won't even fight back." He stretched his arms, seeing the shadow of them illuminated against the cobbled road by the rising moon. When he illicit no reply, he raised his voice.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

She felt her legs turn to jelly. Her pacing wobbled.

"I see. He _is_ dead. Quite a revelation that is..."

The Traveler stopped as she did. Her shoulders trembled and she buckled onto her knees in the middle of the road. He had heard much about Warden Shadowsong, mostly revolving around her iron will and fierce determination to deliver justice to any wrongdoer. With such a strong mask, he nonetheless believed that she would crack like everyone else. And he could hear her whimpering under her armor.

"I left after a year of faithful service. Last I heard, he had taken the boys to Outland," he continued. "That was not too long ago. By now, he might have recovered his senses and could very well be returning here. Who knows?"

"Why will you not stop talking?" she asked, halfway between a demand and a plea.

He stooped down beside her. "Because in all my years of mercenary work, I have never seen such compassion drive a man to great lengths to find the only family he has left."

For the first time, she looked at him. The pain was there. The agony was there. The sadness, the depression, the loneliness... Now he understood her.

"Warden, I see that your task is done. But your heart is searching for a reason to keep beating. I am not the most suited to tell you this but I advise you to return to Darnassus. Or you could present yourself to your brother and end his tiresome search."

"Why are you offering me this?"

The Traveler smiled. He pointed to the junction that sprouted off the horizon of the hill up ahead. "There is a place I know of where the rent is free. Since you do not have your soldiers with you, it would be easier for them to prepare a proper bed for you—"

"My Watchers are dead. All of them are dead," she echoed.

"Sobbing in the middle of the road will accomplish nothing if your goal is to appease your guilt. Your 'Watchers' may be dead but you are not." He found himself sounding like his old drill sergeant which he did not mind. "Come on. We need to get out of here before anything untoward happens to us."

To his annoyance, she finally used her ability to disappear from him. The flash was quick and he groused when he waved away the unseen magical residue of her Blink. He correctly guessed that she was on the other side of the hill, hastening towards the half-open inn owned by that old fart Genghis.

"Night elves," he murmured. "You give them hope and they leave you hanging... Damn it."

* * *

 **NOTE: "Blink" here refers to the Blink skill of the night elf Warden hero (and Maiev, of course) in _The Frozen Throne_. If I have to explain it, it's a teleportation skill where the hero can teleport between short distances and is quite useful in popping in and out of combat (or getting to those hard to reach places...especially when piecing together Gul'dan's shadow orb in the night elves campaign).**


	3. Chapter 3

Maiev had firmly insisted that she be given her own room and she need not show force for Genghis to happily oblige. During the night, however, the Traveler could her hear whimpering through the walls, interrupted once by the sound of breaking glass. He hurried to the corridor to intercept the owner and give him full compensation for the mirror that was most likely shattered across the carpeted floor.

When morning finally dawned, he found her on the balcony behind the tavern, her eyes dry and weighted, staring blankly into the expanse of the forest. His steps were intentionally heavy against the floorboards and he caught her sharp elven ears twitch though she made no move to even look at him.

Her pink hair hung unkempt over her face and he almost lifted his finger to clear away a few strands. He decided for the better to be subtle.

"I once held command over a bastion of marines in southern Kalimdor," the Traveler began. "We formed part of a garrison...stationed around a fortress built along Tidefury Cove. We were relegated under the lordship of Grand Admiral Daelin Proudmoore."

"Are you telling me of your exploits in your failed campaign against the orcs?" Maiev vexedly croaked.

"I do not regard my terms of service as exploits. I never enjoyed much of my time spent in the Barrens. But I do admit that when I was fighting against the indigenous tribes that inhabited those forsaken dry lands, I had never felt such _rush_ and exhilaration...compared to being stationed behind the battlements of a castle that no one would ever assault."

"Then you share much in common with the warmongers of your kind."

The Traveler chortled. "The only thing I enjoyed about my time as a Kul Tiras marine commander was all the action that came my way. Other than that, I was never even born in Kul Tiras."

"Why do you bother telling me this? I did not ask for it."

"Why did you break the mirror in your room when you could have just punched your pillow?"

Maiev pressed one of her diamante daggers against his neck. "For a human, you have quite the tactlessness of a goblin."

He leered at her. "Thank you for the compliment, Miss Shadowsong. Truly, you are easily aggravated by even the slightest of words. I may not even need to insult you; I will just disagree with you and pretty soon, I will be—"

She kicked him from underneath and swung him over the balcony, leaving him hanging by his heels which she held in her hands.

"...hanging by my heels," he gasped. "You have anger management issues, do you know that?"

"Do not push me, human," Maiev hissed.

"Well, I'm glad I did not have my breakfast," he muttered just as he was hauled back on to the balcony. He gripped the bannister so as not to be caught off guard again. "Now why did you pull me back up?"

Maiev seethed. "Do not _tempt_ my wrath."

The Traveler shrugged and straightened the creases in his undershirt. "I know you want to know more about your brother. Besides, he has not been around...since that godforsaken war way, way, _waaay_ back then...as far as I know. That was...quite a long, long time ago. Give or take, ten thousand years? The first invasion of the Burning Legion, ah, yes. That's right. When Queen Aszhara lost her wits and decided that inviting hordes of demons into Azeroth would save her people. What an idiot."

Maiev bit her lip upon mention of the traitor queen. "Your knowledge of us is impressive. I am curious to find out how you learned so much of us."

The Traveler crossed his arms. The arrogance disappeared from his face, replaced by a demand for attention. "The Kul Tiras academic libraries—well, those that weren't sacked by the Scourge—is a treasure trove of written history. Also, your brother and I got along better than the rest so he would not resist to tell his side of the War. Besides, no one bothered asking about his dying mate and that was just a tad shame. Someone had to console a mourning soul..."

She cut him off. "Jarod has a mate?"

"Ah, of course. I forgot. You haven't seen each other in millennia. Yes, he _had_ a mate. She was ill for quite some time. Your friends at Darnassus tried their best to heal her but 'tis a painful reality that even the greatest healers have their limits." He spat over the balcony, muttering bitterly under his breath. "What a crock that part of life is."

"Speak clearly to me!" the Warden ordered. "You do not talk to me like I am some inebriated sailor. I am the guardian of the Betrayer, I am..." She bit back on her tongue.

The Traveler observed her recompose herself. "'Guardian' of the Betrayer? Don't you mean 'jailor'?"

"Tell me about his mate," she calmly requested. "Please."

He crossed his arms. Knowing this Kaldorei Warden, he was sure her keenness allowed her to ascertain the tastelessness in his mouth. "Her name was Shalasyr. And she was a mother to us, bastard children...left to rot in the streets. She brought me to your brother, seeing that she was one of the few people in my life who convinced me that everything had a purpose." He chuckled hoarsely. When the Warden made no sound, he continued,

"It was a hassle trying to convince the guards to let us use the portal that led to your capital. Xenophobic fools. But when they saw Jarod coming over, they bended their rear and spread their cheeks almost immediately."

Maiev strafed her dagger across the table loud enough to be heard. "I will not tolerate your vulgarity of my people."

The Traveler cocked a brow. "Aren't we all vulgar about anything? Your people threw a hero's welcome for your brother while he was carrying a _dying woman_ in his arms!"

"Jarod had disappeared for millennia," Maiev snarled, "It would be natural for my people to welcome him home."

"Yes, yes. Throw in a feast while a woman no one even knew was fighting for her life. At least the feast came after she passed."

"I do not like your tone."

"What is done is done, what has been said cannot be taken back," the Traveler spat. He paused to let the tension die. He did not appreciate getting all worked up so early in the morning. And about Shalasyr, too. "Jarod believed you were alive even though everyone in the city thought you were dead, lost to the abyss of Outland. We did not stay long in Darnassus. Shalasyr's passing strengthened his purpose or some other. I left to pursue other goals.

"My working relationship with your brother has remained as it was when we last talked: fairly mutual. Last I heard, they had traveled to Outland to pursue reports alleging that a certain Kaldorei prisoner was held by a sect of Broken Draenei. If you ask me, Jarod would be tearing through your old prison cell, calling out your name."

"He will find only the Deathsworn," Maiev replied. "If what you say is true, then I can only hope and pray that Akama will not be hostile to him."

The Traveler huffed and started downstairs. "I will be leaving in a while. If you want to come with me to the next town, feel free. But if you want to go Darnassus, you are on your own."

Maiev watched him dip below the staircase. Then she realized that she forgot to thank him for taking her mind off things. The void was there, yes, and she accepted it, albeit painfully. With the Betrayer's words repeating endlessly in her head the previous night, she was very grateful for this break from the haunting monotony. It had nearly driven her mad.

An unresolved curiosity came in place of her resolved anger. When she wandered the abyss of Outland, she did so without a purpose or goal. She had already fulfilled her task as witness, judge, and executioner. After that, she had nothing else. Nothing to do, nowhere to go... No purpose to pursue...

And now this insensitive cretin of a human tells her that Jarod is alive and looking for her. The thought was absurd yet...she grudgingly confessed that she believed him.

Maiev Blinked downstairs to intercept the Traveler before he departed. "You are coming with me to Darnassus," she ordered.

The Traveler sighed. "No, no. I told you, if you are—"

"I am not taking 'no' for an answer," she said, her umbra once again pressing against his throat.

He groaned so hoarsely that Maiev honestly thought that humans were incapable of sounding exactly like constipated furbolgs.

"Very well," he acquiesced after a long while. "Damn night elves..."

* * *

Akama smelled the scent of the Kaldorei long before they had passed the antechamber. As such, he gave orders for his guardsmen to stand down, giving his guests an unsettling welcome. When he finally met with his visitors, an odd bunch of elven warriors accompanied by their human and dwarven mercenaries, he quickly recognized the striking resemblance between their Kaldorei commander and the captive that he once stood guard over.

Introductions were quick, albeit tense, and Akama demanded to know what business Jarod Shadowsong had with him.

"Word is that you have charge over a lone prisoner somewhere nearby," the night elf began.

Akama observed his band, seeing that they were ready to pounce at the slightest hint of action. The silhouettes of his experienced elites stood rigidly atop the flanking columns and cracked walls. "I once did. She has been released."

Jarod's reaction was as he had expected; muted surprise revealing nary a touch of sadness. "I see."

"Have you any relation to Warden Maiev Shadowsong?"

The Chieftain of the Ashtongue tribe easily read the relief coming from the night elf. "She is my sister."

"Ah, I see now," Akama remarked rather too calmly. "Many have come here attempting to reclaim her. They would present themselves as liaisons, relatives, long-dead siblings..."

"Is that so?" Jarod asked acidly.

"Yes. I cannot tell you much more than that for they were either turned away or destroyed. However, you are far more genuine than any of the impostors to present themselves before us."

"How so?"

"A fraud would normally say, 'I am her brother, or sister, or cousin, or sort.' You, on the other hand... You said, ' _She_ is my sister'. Placement of words denotes everything. True enough, that is honesty enough for me to tell you, once again, that she is no longer here."

The night elf cocked his head. "But she is still alive. Right?"

"Commander Shadowsong"—Akama found the title tastefully odd since he always referred to the name Shadowsong with the preffix of Warden—"you have heard that the Lord of Outland Illidan Stormrage has been felled. He...perished, or rather, was burned to ash by the vengeance of your sister. She has fulfilled her task but she is now lost and confused. She wandered away from here shortly after. I am sure she has returned to your world by now."

Jarod watched him. It was an answer he half-expected. He felt the tip of pointed ears wriggle, feigning his disbelief at what he had just heard. However, the times had been desperate recently and he was willing to take anything he can get no matter how shady it was.

"Very well. Thank you for your time, Chieftain," he bade.

The Broken had blocked the corridor leading to the outside. Akama subsequently turned him around. "Since you are here, we could use some help in purging these annoying demons from our lands."

"I have come only to search for my sister, not to aid you in your warmongering," he groused.

"You sound exactly like her. Alas, I cannot allow you to leave so early." The sound of blades scraping against their sheaths instigated the supervising Deathsworn into doubling their numbers, a feat achieved in less than a minute much to the astonishment of Jarod's motley crew. Akama stood down his guardsmen once again.

"Please, let us leave," the night elf requested, his hands clinging to the hilt of his drawn sword. "I do not wish to harm you."

"Even if we were to enforce our will upon you... Well, circumstances are unfavorable at this point. The demons are blocking the roads to the gates that you intend to pass through. You have noticed the sudden activity among both the Horde and Alliance settlements, have you not?"

"How can you be sure of this?"

Akama offered him a rolled scroll, bound by a thick bright thread. "My scouts have informed me about this development just before you marched in here." He waited for Jarod to accept his gift. "That scroll is one of many items that we are willing to share with you. It replenishes the strength of your warriors should you exhaust yourself against the demons."

Jarod sighed. His men waited his orders, seeing as they were on edge from this meeting. It was a mind-grinding journey just to get this far and it would be mind-grinding again to get out of it. He supposed he had no other choice. "Alright. Take us to these demons."

"Follow me," Akama ordered, leading the charge to the gates of Outland where the fragmented garrisons of the Burning Legion managed to seize Shattrath in a desperate attempt to hold ground.

* * *

LAST EDITED: June 14, 2015


	4. Chapter 4

"Have I told you about why not many people journey to Darnassus?" the Traveler stated, smirking when Maiev forcefully ignored him. "I mean, the city is a beautiful place—wonderful architecture and all that—but the even the tourists would rather pass up the offer to visit."

The Warden pounded her boots heavily against the bridge they were crossing. Try as she might, she could drown out his voice.

"Do you know how much hassle it is just to get to Darnassus from...well, pretty much anywhere? Quite a lot. And sometimes the guards are picky as to who gets to go in or out."

"Are you done?" Maiev asked without turning her head.

"Do you want to know how much you could accomplish when you're not always looking for a place to urinate?"

The Traveler barely caught Maiev's swing that knocked him off the railing and sent him tumbling down onto the levee below the bridge. He heard her flutter through space and correctly guessed that she Blinked down to the banks to retrieve him.

"Foolish human," she muttered angrily, dragging him by the collar out of the mud.

"Keep your mouth shut," he said just as the hasty patter of boots beat against the beams of the bridge above them.

"Where are they!?" a gruff voice demanded.

"I don't know! She just suddenly disappeared!" another replied.

"Idiots! We had our chance. Now we have to wait hours for someone else to come by!"

"Bandits," Maiev mouthed but she knew better than to attract anymore attention. Emerging out of the shadows, she pulled the Traveler out of the muck and hauled him over to the bushes without so much as a sound.

"Well, that worked quicker than I expected," he breathed, rubbing his jaw.

"You did that on purpose, did you?" the Warden growled. "You knew I would knock you over and jump down to pull you back up..." She paused. That did not sound like her at all. "You sly bastard."

The Traveler grinned, mainly to exercise some muscle back into his throbbing chin. "What can I say? I'm just being smart."

"They're gone now. If we pass through here, we could circumvent them," Maiev said.

"I'm surprised you are not planning to kill them. They are thieves—criminals—after all."

He caught her glower and shrugged. Maiev snarled, drawing her crescent. How could she forget? She was a Warden, a deliverer of justice! "They are not Kaldorei."

"They tried to rob a Kaldorei."

The Warden grimaced. "Don't tell me what to do." Then she Blinked and the Traveler could hear the first cries of pain that bounced against the trees.

"Do night elves have mood swings?" he wondered, drawing his sword and joining in the fray.

* * *

Jarod watched the wind sweep away the ashes of the demons' remains. His men were tired and weary after a long fought battle. The humans were the most fragile in most any conflict and he was grateful that Akama's Ashtongue Deathsworn were willing to provide their pragmatic medicinal remedies in place of insufficient healing magics. Not that the Horde or Alliance forces generous enough to lend them their own.

The night elf commander wiped the sweat off his brow, noting the smear of dried blood that came along with it. The minor laceration below his hairline would fade in time. His troupe had so far suffered minor burns and mostly blisters from swinging their weapons too much. Thankfully, none among them have died though they were growing increasingly cranky at the lack of rest.

"We have done as you asked," he reported to the waiting Broken elder.

"Indeed, you have." Akama gestured for him to follow. "Thank you for your assistance. However, before you depart, I must tell you something."

Jarod narrowed his eyes. "I have only agreed to help you once."

"I only hope and pray that you find your sister soon," the elder continued, emerging onto the rubble of a razed barracks. "I stood guard over her long enough to see her seasons shift."

Jarod was uncomfortable with what he heard but decided to hear the rest of the tale.

Akama planted his blade perpendicular to the soil and measured his palm at its tip. "Do you see how high this is from the ground? That is how much money and treasure we can store in one of our coffers."

"I do not expect any payment other than information," Jarod replied.

"This much gold I promised to give away to a man whom I trust. I asked him to do a task that I myself would have done if circumstances were not as they were." Akama exhaled, sounding more tired than he often did. "When Mistress Shadowsong felled Lord Illidan, she had lost herself. I could not stomach her ceaseless wandering...so when a mercenary passed by, I contracted him. And in his eyes, I could see his determination to fulfill it as faithfully as your sister has in her hunt for Lord Illidan."

Jarod was near the tip of bringing his sword against this sage. Instead, he swallowed the stone in his throat, feeling his hands clenched so tight. "Why have you not told me this before?"

"I had to be sure. Many impostors have come seeking her head. The fact that you conducted yourself zealously against the demons proves that you are indeed of the same blood. It was a necessary precaution," Akama confessed.

"What did you have this mercenary do?" The night elf swore that if he heard him say anything about spilling Maiev's blood, he would draw on all his might to raze everything to the ground.

"Simple. Guide her back home."

* * *

Zeppelins, especially those of goblin manufacture, were the bane of all forms of transportation...only to the Traveler. Though Maiev had proudly displayed her immunity to skysickness, he felt as though she had beaten his stomach into submission. He was constantly hanging over the bannister, frequently coming close to heaving out the previous meal.

He did his best to smother his face in the clouds, daring not to look below for fear of instigating another gag reflex. Even then, the condensations scraped against his face, giving him an uncomfortable burn that rendered his cheeks red.

"For a brash man, you have little stomach for the skies," Maiev remarked rather calmly.

"I was never suited for flying," he said with a soft chuckle. He quickly forced down another bubbling pool of bile. "But we must all face the challenges of seeing the ground...far lower than you are used to."

The Warden crossed her arms. "I am disappointed in this disparity between your swordsmanship and your weak stomach."

"And since when did you become my drill sergeant?" he spat.

Maiev suppressed her impulse to lash out. She had spent much of her centennial duties devoted to carving out pure warriors out of those who had opted to join her order and she drew upon her military background to heavily critique this pathetic human's excuses for vomiting over the side of the zeppelin.

"Do you want me to force a herb down your throat?" she offered.

The Traveler gawked at her. Cocking his head sideways, he snarled, "What? No! I'm fine, damn it."

"Keep your bile to yourself," Maiev icily warned. "Better yet, for the duration of our trip, keep your distance from me. I would rather not be bathed in your half-digested breakfast."

He snickered snidely. "It's not like I want to stand inches from your face. I barely see it. Maybe I don't want to see it for all the world that it's been kept hidden under that ridiculous mask of yours."

The Traveler braced for impact a little too late. He quickly felt his legs stolen from underneath him and the underside of his belly crumpled by an ironclad fist. At least, she did not toss him overboard; that would have been very, very unfortunate. When he landed hard on the deck, he felt Maiev's heated breath against his cheeks.

"Do you want me to throw you off?" she hissed.

"I thought you already did," he groaned.

"Hey!" the goblin quartermaster hollered from the upper deck. "Everything alright down there?"

"We're good!" the Traveler called back, raising a tired thumb. The goblin shrugged and disappeared back into the boiler where the gas-fed mechanical turbine engine propelled the balloon forward. "Warden, are you going to pick me up?"

Maiev strode over him towards the bow.

"I guess that's a no," he groused, crawling onto his belly, and staggering stupidly back onto his feet. His stomach tightened and he once again planted himself by the bannister, ready to heave away.

* * *

LAST EDITED: June 26, 2015

UPLOADED: June 26, 2015


	5. Chapter 5

The storm had come at a most unexpected time. The severity of it forced the goblins manning the Zeppelin to alter course. Unfortunately, nature spared no prey and the vicious hurricane was too strong for the Zeppelin's single propeller to push against. Amid the thunder and lightning, the turbulence of the winds struck the crippling blow that doomed the skycraft to the earth.

Among the very few who survived its crash into the high Barrens north of Orgrimmar were the odd pair of a human and a night elf. The goblins were either crushed by the engines they maniacally tried to save or consumed by the turbines they were so fanatically protecting. Everyone else was dead.

"Warden," the Traveler called, himself a scathed and bruised mess, brushing through the wreckage, "Warden!"

In the darkening distance, too many wolves chimed in unison. Their howls swept down the dry mountains to the debris spread out across ten yards worth of dirt.

"Maiev!"

She Blinked behind him and pulled him down. "Be quiet!" she hissed.

The Traveler looked her over. There was blood on her lips and her crescent had shown signs of fresh combat, notably the fragment of cloth and a piece of baked skin stuck to the rightmost serrated edge. "Marauders already?"

"I told you to be quiet!"

Almost immediately thereafter, the sound of hooves rebounded off the cliffside. The shadows of centaurs reflected against the fires from the wreckage. Their silhouettes moved against the massive stone spires, their deep voices slurring loudly enough to mute any soft footfalls.

"There are too many of them for us to handle," the Traveler quipped.

Maiev nodded, herself partly in a haze.

In an instant, an arrow pierced the rock they were hiding behind followed immediately by the hack of a massive axe over their heads. Maiev immediately Blinked away, leaving the Traveler to block the incoming blow of the raider.

Despite an injured arm, he managed to swing his sword out of its sheath to catch the axehead. The centaur pressed down on his grip, however, and he buckled back, tumbling down the ridge line until he felt the thorns of a cactus rip through his coat. The other centaurs wasted no time in converging down the slope.

"Maiev, I know you can hear me!" he cried. "Now is the right time to do that thing of yours—"

She did, Blinking right in front of him and startling the centaurs' charge. "Get down!" she ordered.

The Traveler dropped prone as the Warden spun, letting loose a flurry of jagged knives that covered a sizable radius. Most of the blades made their mark, forcing the cannibalistic horsemen back amid pained cries.

"We must move now!" Maiev hollered, pulling him to his feet. Coming face to face, she caught his eyes bulge and had her whole body forcefully pushed prone as a dart whistled overhead, embedding deep into the human's bare shoulder.

The Traveler stifled a curse and fruitlessly fought back the sedative which, to his surprise, took immediate effect. The centaurs were never this skilled with...anesthetic...compounds...

The Warden wedged her arms under his body, cushioning his fall. A more robust marauder took the opportunity to strike. With the axehead reversed, the dull edge crashed against the cone of Maiev's helmet. It would have been fatal to a bare head but the hardened steel had absorbed the force of the blow just enough to allow her to only lose consciousness.

* * *

When she awoke, her first instinct was to wiggle. As she expected, her hands were bound behind her. She fluttered her eyes to clear the blur until she could see the interwoven bars of steel that formed her cage. Crude but tight. She barely had any leg room at all but she could see below her.

She was suspended from a pole by a chain. Knowing the centaurs, she was well aware how long she had left before they prepared their pots for her to boil in. Though they had not stripped her of her armor, the strict confines of her cell made her feel painfully constricted.

And the smell... The stench was horrid. Far worse than even the dung of the wildkin or the rotting corpse thereof.

She made to move and the cage swung slightly. Her heart pounded heavily until she realized just how familiar this all was. Clearing her head as much as she could, she found that these confines were far less hospitable than her cell in Outland. But she preferred not to dwell on that thought any more than she would have wanted to.

"Glad to see you're not dead," someone weakly called from across the yard.

The embers of a dead fire still cackled in the roasting pit and provided just enough light for her to see across the centaurs' crude camp. The fact that night elves were gifted with the ability to see as far at night as during the day added to her ability to pick out the figures in the dark. The Traveler, apparently, had been left to hang upside down next to the skinned corpse of a pig; he was bound and prepped for flaying come morning.

"Quite the predicament we found ourselves in, don't you think?" he cackled dryly.

"How can you be so crass about this situation?" she snarled.

"Ah... It could be worse." He swung his tightly tied hands forward. "Look around you. The centaurs are asleep. All of them... Dumb cannibals."

Maiev crunched her nose. Her hands were now going against the rope. "How can you not stand this foul odor?" she had to ask.

"I was a Kul Tiras marine, remember?" He laughed haughtily. "Although I admit that the malodorous stench of a centaur is not among those that I miss about the Barrens. I wish they would have at least bound me against a totem than to have me hang like this. For Light's sake, if I pee in this state...that would be very, very unfortunate."

With enough effort, the ropes stretched and snapped, giving Maiev the freedom of her hands. "These cages are not even bound by any magic," she muttered. And before the Traveler could say a word, she disappeared behind the puffy flash of white, reappearing again outside her cage and directly in front of his head.

"That was quick," he said.

Maiev clasped the end of one of her daggers and cut him loose. He fell hard and when his ropes were finally undone, he flicked his head towards a heap of junk piled behind one of the huts underneath which two centaurs were sleeping soundly, surrounded by their own pack of flies.

"How long have you been suspended like that?"

The Traveler waved her off. "I'm fine, I'm fine! My brain hasn't drowned in my own blood yet." He pointed to the plunder. "Our weapons are there. If we could sneak passed—"

She was gone before he could finish. He sighed and waited, finding the surrounding presence of several sleeping cannibalistic horsemen oddly nostalgic. He heard the shuffle of metal and she emerged out of the dark with her crescent and his sword which she tossed to him.

Maiev eyed the path that lead out of the camp. Beyond it was an expanse of rock and jagged cliffs. They were on a plateau. "We should leave before they wake up."

"Good call." The Traveler tore a sheet off his shirt and wrapped it around his arm, the cut caused by the Zeppelin's debris crudely sown over and the dried blood licked clean by a hungry centaur.

"Are you able with that injury?" she asked. "I could not find any healing medicaments."

"I'm good. I've been through this before. I admit that I'm going to need your help though. Night was never my element."

In the darkness, Maiev allowed the faintest of a smile to curl at the end of her lip. This human reminded her of her more agile Watchers. Their faces dashing through her mind caused her minor discomfort and she willed them away to focus on their escape.

"This must be the way," she said, pointing to the winding path.

"Lead on, Warden," the Traveler goaded, following her near invisible silhouette.

* * *

Despite bearing strong similarities with the niches of Outland, the Barrens were a new experience for Maiev. The heat, she painfully discovered, was more punishing than the oven air of Draenor. Though there were potholes of water in and around Shadowmoon Valley, particularly in that backwater tavern in Shattrath, such a resource was not as easily accessible here. To the very least, the roads were not baking her feet with every step.

The sky was fading fast and the orange glow of the sun spread over the wilderness, coloring the landscape with hues of bright yellow and greenish brown. For every cactus that Maiev could see, she counted a dozen ways to squeeze out its juices for so much as a drink. And even they were growing scarce by the mile.

The Traveler waved his hand and planted his sword into the ground next to a towering spire so conveniently shaped by the elements of nature into a large claw that provided enough shade for a whole caravan. He bent over panting. "Care to rest?"

"Tired?"

"Of course. What, do I look like I'm eager to keep going?" he groused.

Maiev scowled. Sweat beaded down her lips and she turned away briefly to wipe her lower face clean. "How further on before we reach this checkpoint you are referring to?"

"If it's still there..."

The Warden stiffened. She rounded herself with a solid kick to his chest. He rebounded against the rock but her boot stayed over his chest plate, pressing him against it. "Do not _tell_ me we are _lost_."

"I never said we were," he growled back. She released her boot and he dropped, choking for air.

"I don't know why I'm even with you," Maiev muttered.

"You dragged me with you. Why complain?"

The Warden stifled a growl. She was in no mood for anything now. With the desert around them and hydration becoming a problem, she was feeling far more exhausted than ever before. The sun had now ascended above the mountains and she prepared herself for what could very well be a severe heat wave.

"If memory serves," the Traveler blurted out of the blue. "We had traversed this road before. If we keep following this road, we might be able to catch the banners that we had put up. We had used that forward outpost to monitor the locals' activity...and most often there were skirmishes."

"You provoked the centaurs into attacking you by setting stone on earth that was not yours," Maiev snarled.

"They came at us first!" he snarled back. "Something had to be done to keep them at bay. Stomping our foot onto their threshold was the solution and it worked. Besides, these carnivores horsemen were far more belligerent than the wildlife of the north."

"Your campaign was an incursion into Kalimdor."

"We were no saints but that does not mean that your people are no different than us. War was never ours to make!"

Maiev buried her glaive deep into the stone inches above his bare head. "Do you want to argue with me, human?"

"Do you want me to cut you down right where you..." The Traveler bit down on his tongue and quickly exhaled, pressing his half-drawn sword back into its scabbard. He forced himself away from her. He waited until he could think more clearly. When he spoke, his voice was calmer. "The outpost should have tapped into an underground water reserve. There should be a well there."

Maiev narrowed her eyes. She breathed deep to snuff out her bubbling anger. After several deep breaths, she saw him waiting patiently ahead, his cloak now a turban wrapped around his head. This rabble would suffocate them both. She would rather expend her energy fending off predators than to harm the only hope she had of leaving the Barrens.

* * *

LAST EDITED: July 8, 2015


	6. Chapter 6

The outpost was nothing more than rubble half-buried underneath mounds of crimson dirt and sand. Amid the debris, only one discernible remnant remained, untouched by the ravaging indigenes who razed this Kul Tiras forward base. It made all the hours of ceaseless, agonizing walking worth it.

"Amazing. The well is still intact," the Traveler remarked, eager to wet his drying lips. He undid the latch on the spool, releasing the bucket into the reservoir below. The audible splash rang up to his ears.

"Do you hear that, Warden? Water."

He heard a thud. He whirled around to find Maiev motionless on the desert floor.

"Warden!" He leapt over the well and dragged her under the shade of a nearby tree. The sun was high up above and he could feel the heat bouncing off the ground, making it all the more difficult to breath. "Maiev, damn it." He pressed his thumb against her bare neck. The pulse was faint.

"Warden, stay with me." He saw her mouth moving.

"My...Watchers..." Her voice was soft, fragile. "Where..."

The Traveler laid her head on his knapsack and rushed to secure the latch. He wasted no time and grabbed the bucket as soon as it emerged from the pit, pouring the cool water over the delusional night elf. Maiev's body reacted to the sudden cold but her mind was still distant. After drenching her a second time, she reached up to grab at anything and he set the pail aside to grasp her hand. Her grip was tight...and desperate.

"Naisha... Naisha, watch out...the Betrayer... We must escape...before...the tomb..."

"Maiev," he mouthed. Experience taught him to let her live her hallucinations. She could see them; he didn't. And he knew better than to interrupt. At this point, anything would have helped to relieve her pain.

"Illidan... Wha..."

The Traveler saw the light in her eyes flicker and he slapped her to keep it alight. "Maiev! Stay with me!"

"...Ah..."

"Come on, Warden. You're stronger than that," he pleaded. "You braved the Legion's demons, you manned a prison for generations, you are a survivor! Do you hear me!? A survivor!"

He shook her violently and her face contorted from stillness to confusion until finally, she shuffled her eyes to him. The slightest hint of sanity flashed brightly against his moistened face. "Maiev, heed my voice. I will not lose you."

"Water..." she whispered.

"Here. I have it here. Drink," he said, ripping his empty canteen off his belt and dipping it into the pail. Cupping her head, he pressed the canteen against her lips, letting the excess filter down her cheeks and moisten her cloak.

He released only when she squeezed his thigh. She coughed and choked until finally, she heaved herself against the bark of the tree.

"Here," the Traveler said, forcing the canteen into her palm. "Drink until you're better." With that, he freed his hands from under her and went to return the pail to the spool.

Maiev watched silently, struggling to find her voice. She drank again, savoring the cool taste of the earth's natural reservoir. She wanted to thank him, to show him gratitude. She saw him stagger in his step until he collapsed against the well, arm reaching up to the spool.

Maiev desperately crawled to his paralyzed frame. If she could make it, she might give him back his canteen, offer him a drink as well...and keep each other alive until help...

The ground darkened before her. She glanced up to find the sun blocked out by the hulking mass of a massive beast...with horns.

* * *

It was the sound of a cackling fire that finally woke her. She bolted upright when her skin did not feel the warm steel of her armor. Her body felt so light and yet as she dragged her head to look around, she found the heaviness reminiscent of her caged tenure in Outland. This time, however, instead of bars of steel, she was clothed lightly in a silken robe with the rest of her bare skin hidden underneath a fur blanket.

Maiev turned to see the slit in the teepee. The flap waved under the wind's duress and she was able to glimpse the tall figures moving about outside, some sitting around a fire that was beckoning for her to come.

"Tauren," she discerned.

As if someone was listening, a Shu'halo shaman raised the flap and welcomed her with a wave of his chalice. Maiev felt for anything that she could use as a weapon but her hands suddenly felt lax. With no control over her limbs, she slid back down against the warm cot and gazed back up at the tapestry of this modest hovel.

She knew she had to get out of here but a part of her rebuked her hostility. She could barely understand whether she had been on the receiving end of Shu'halo hospitality or not. Time and again, these beasts had proven their allegiance with the Horde and since then, there have been little to no untoward incidences between their two races. Or none that she had heard about since her captivity.

Leather rubbed against the leather and she turned her head to see the same shaman. With another wave of his chalice, she was finally able to move freely. Consequently, she stammered off the cot and looked around for where they had kept her suit of armor. The floor was carpeted and warmed her bare feet, making her feel more comfortable than she would have wanted.

"Fear not, child. All is well," the shaman greeted.

"Where..." she began only to find her voice dry out quickly.

The shaman pointed at a table, intricately hidden behind a row of clay pots. Her helmet sat neatly atop her folded cloak and mail. Maiev felt for her hair, twirling the ends until she could feel them stretch against her scalp. With a deep breath, she moved her lips to say something understandable to the shaman.

"Come. Your friend is waiting for you," he remarked, extending his massive hand.

Maiev wanted to retrieve her equipment, first, though she finally decided to wait and see what would happen. She was in no rush, right?

The shaman guided her outside to the more bearable warmth of the Barrens sun. Having witnessed the might of these reclusive beasts in the battles against the Legion, she expected to see the field littered with the filth of a warrior society akin to those of the orcs. To her disappointment and more dominant relief, the only traces of any warmongering she could see were the handful of centaur skins stretched around the fire, left to bake under the sun so as to be tanned later.

The rest of the tauren were huddled around the pit, some walking around, others sitting idly. There were massive battle axes and the intricately carved totems that she prayed were from the logs of already deceased trees. Finally, as she was squeezed into the crowd of Shu'halo warriors and druids and shamans, she was welcomed by the fragrance of grounded herbs interspersed with the overpowering sensation of docility.

"Hey, Warden! Finally glad to see you," the Traveler cheerfully greeted, rounding the fire pit and bending down to greet her.

Maiev scowled.

"What's wrong? Aren't you glad to be alive?" Then he realized exactly why she was so apprehensive. "Oh, right... I see." Seeing her only in anything other than her mail and dagger-cloak was an entirely...awkward...experience.

She sighed, her aggressive nature now fully pacified. She guessed Elune had intervened on this day. Though she had heard from Lord Stareye that the Shu'halo worshipped a deity bearing great similarities to Elune, she easily drew parallels between their revered 'Earthmother' and the goddess. Then again, she was still recovering from heat stroke so her thoughts were still probably muddled.

Maiev then gazed up at her—she hated to admit it—only friend, shying away slightly when her glowing eyes caused him to cover his own.

"I could have only guessed what you looked like in simpler clothing," he said, trotting beside her.

The Warden gritted her teeth. "I take it you bare no malice."

"Oh, no, no! It's just that, I haven't seen you looking like this before. Or rather, I haven't seen you looking like a normal night elf."

Maiev felt her jaw drop. "Is that so?"

The Traveler was quick to block himself. "I meant no offense. I was just saying."

A sort of humming attracted their attention and the Traveler heaved himself free of her glare to position himself among the circle of Shu'halo tribals who were apparently engrossing themselves in a rhythmic ritualistic melody. Two finely decorated tauren males were pounding synchronized beats against their handheld drums, enticing the surrounding crowd into the calm fray.

Maiev watched the Traveler excitedly croon alongside the seated tauren. She made sure to keep herself out of sight. Such revelry was deemed pagan and unbefitting for a Kaldorei to participate in. However, she prayed to Elune to give her this one chance to actually witness this particular aspect of Shu'halo culture that did not involve death and destruction.

Before long, she too found herself swaying to the beat of the drums. Maiev gripped the edges of her robe and glanced down hard to keep her from being consumed by the rising atmosphere. Suddenly, the music stopped, punctuated by a large staccato of hooves pounding against the earth. Maiev eased herself against the smooth stone step and observed the eerie silence that dominated the fire pit. The Shu'halo had ceased to move until the shaman that had guided her earlier emerged out of the smoke and hovered his chalice over the flame. A pipe emerged from his hand and after blowing a couple puffs into it, he passed it on to the next tauren.

For a moment, Maiev's heart stilled. The contours of the ethereal smoke took on familiar faces. The blood in her hands ran cold when a pair of glowing green eyes pierced through the nether. It barely lasted a glimpse.

Then the shape contorted until Maiev could discern the features of Malfurion Stormrage. And Tyrande. And Naisha. And...Jarod.

A heavy hand pressed against her shoulder. Despite being deprived of her battle gear, Maiev was able to maneuver out of whoever was holding her and achieve a distance with which she could work with. If she was in a fight.

The young tauren druid immediately retracted her hand. "S-sorry, I-I did not mean to startle you," she shakily apologized.

Maiev felt the need to lash out but nodded controllably. She had a modest grasp of Taur'ahe, the language of these indigenes, and knew enough to understand that the druid was being harmlessly curious.

"You are a night elf, yes?"

The Warden found the question odd. "Yes, I am."

"Ah. I have heard much about you," the druid began, her excitement seeping out of her voice. "You commune with nature just as much as we do. I was hoping we could learn from each other about the earth."

Maiev glanced at the circle where the bulkier tauren, most of them males, were passing around the large wooden pipe; they puffed twice before passing it to the next. She divided her attention between the Traveler and this Shu'halo...who uncomfortably reminded her of her early days as a priestess for Elune: eager, excited, and full of wondrous dreams for the future. But that had long since passed...

The druid drawled on. "Our ancestors fought alongside your kind many years ago. In a battle against the demons. There were so many things that had happened in those times and I am so..."

The Warden drowned out her voice with her own ringing in her head. She knew exactly what this young tauren was talking about. And Maiev kept her eyes on the lively fire. In them, she could see the shapes of her brother, the unwitting commander of the Kaldorei resistance, Jarod Shadowsong, leading the Shu'halo in staving off the demons. His brilliant deployment of such massive beasts had shown the conservative cliques that the outer races were just as capable as they were.

Her daydreaming enraptured her until the Traveler replaced the druid by her side. Unfortunately, his behavior had devolved into that of a rambling buffoon who happened to be the center of attention for the gratuitously attentive tauren. And that putrid odor of burnt...something...?

"Warden, warden!" he cried, his arms stretched over his head. Maiev eased herself away, uncomfortable with the fact that she was lightly clothed and he was inching dangerously over her. "The skies...are green! Hrraaaaoouugh! The skies...are greeeeeeeiiiin..."

"What. Are. You. Doing?" Maiev worded, trying her best to keep herself collected even as he was practically rubbing his arms against her side. She could smell something from his mouth as if his breath alone was not bad enough.

"Maiev." The way her name resounded off his lips made her insides twist. "Look at my hands...looook... I have siiiiix fiiiiingerssss..."

"Human," she growled.

"Oh-hoh-hoh! Woooow... Can't you see the colors...the beautiful, beauuuutiful colors? So beautiful..."

She swore if he so much as touched her—

"Oh, heeey...muffins..."

All the observing tauren, mostly were adolescent youngbloods, wisely stepped aside while Maiev viciously and most furiously hurled her human companion through the air hard enough to make the wind whistle. He rebounded against the conveniently hung stretches of tailored cloth and dried centaur skin, bouncing against the ground until finally landing belly first next to the fire pit.

Still delusional, his mouth quivered with words of how soft and plump the "muffins" were amid the muffled laughter of some of the tauren males.

* * *

 **LAST EDITED: July 14, 2015**

 **UPLOADED: July 21, 2015**


	7. Chapter 7

The sun dawned over the rugged Barrens terrain. Three days spent in the company of the Shu'halo had forever shaped Maiev's perception of the legendary race. Guided by two tauren hunters and the same druid eager to learn from the Warden, they had traversed through much of Shu'halo territory, passed hunting grounds that, to Maiev's surprise, were well preserved.

Wild kodos and thunder lizards roamed freely amid the dry hills, gathering around patches of grass and resting under far distant shades provided by towering canopies. Tiny oases dotted the landscape, some occupied by grazing wildlife complimented by flights of birds. It was a refreshing experience to finally see nature's most fragile so cared for since the corruption of Ashenvale by the Legion's taint. She began to think of how much of the legends of the tauren were true given that she had scarcely heard of the more grounded facts during her tenure in the Barrow Deeps.

The journey had been mostly uneventful save for a few skirmishes with some lone quillboars and an ambush by a pack of centaur. It was not until they had reached the watering hole that the tauren began to denote the boundaries upon which they would no longer cross.

The Traveler diligently filled out the pair of wineskins that had been generously gifted to them. He handed one to Maiev and strapped the other to his belt, beside his canteen. Bidding his final goodbyes to their laconic guides, he tugged at the Warden's armored glove and flicked his head to the distant horizon, bathed under hopeful patches of vibrant green amid the expansive dry earth.

"We should be able to make it to the goblins before sundown," he said, running his finger along the map provided by the shaman. The Shu'halo, though bound with the Horde, were gracious enough to offer them aid seeing as they were neither under the banner of the Alliance nor aiming to cause trouble. "You ready for another long walk, eh, Warden? The goblins can always wait; they never close down their observatories."

Maiev nodded.

The Traveler raised his head. "Warden?"

"Pardon?"

He stared at her. She gawked back, confused. "Err, right. You're not going to fall down on the road again, are you?"

"No, I'm not. Just...carry along."

He opened his mouth. Then closed it again. It was just the desert, he thought. The sooner they left the Barrens, the better it was for them. There was no telling how many more hostile tribals lurked behind every rock and crevasse.

"The quillboars do not often send their scouts this far off. The centaurs, though, mark their territory as far as the southern hills of Ashenvale," he continued, sharing what the tauren had told him and glancing back at the map.

"Understood."

"Now that we are refreshed, we should be able to make a fair distance by the end of the day." He heaved his pack over his shoulder which was two ration packs lighter. "If we are careful, we would make it out of here unscathed."

"Don't forget your peace pipe," Maiev blurted acidly.

The Traveler walked up to her. "I thought we forgot about that. But I guess some things are...hard to forget. It was stupid, it was foolish of me... I'm sorry." Then he shuffled passed her down the bumpy road.

Without another word, Maiev followed him, deeply disturbed by how she was completely unable to express herself more assertively than before. And she was damn sure it was not because she experienced getting groped for the first time. After all, being a cruelly feisty and humorless judiciary of her race, no one dared to give her a leer. Even those who did ended up with fresh open cuts above their loins.

"So, Warden," the Traveler chirped. "You eager to finally get home?"

Maiev did not reply. She trudged beside him, glimpsing his face once, before casting her eyes down to the ground. Her mouth was now devoid of words.

"Alright, then," he continued, slightly disappointment mingled in his cheer. "Another hot day, another long march. Lovely."

And it sure was to neither of them.

* * *

The return to Azeroth was a welcoming experience for Jarod and his men. Under their request, he allowed for rest before proceeding onward. As they lay their heads in the tavern, Jarod strolled under the moonless night sky. He mouthed a short prayer to Elune to guide Maiev back home. Because as far as he knew, Darnassus was the only home he knew she could ever go back to.

And he smiled a confident smile, a feature that had not graced his face since the day he met Shalasyr. He looked forward to seeing Maiev again. For in the end, when all was lost, there was nowhere else to run to but the arms of his family.

* * *

The trees grew taller and taller the more they traversed into Kaldorei territory. Maiev's mere presence was enough to draw the eyes of the night elves passing by and consequently drive most of them away. And the Traveler made sure to keep his hand by his sword's hilt in anticipation of an ugly encounter which to his relief never came to pass.

Before long, the valley gave way and the gargantuan island monument Teldrassil emerged out of the horizon, reaching up to the sky, its canopy forever sown into the clouds. It was breathtaking, all the more so for both the Traveler and the Warden. It had been, in both their respective perspectives, quite some time since the last visit.

The boat finally docked and the pair ebbed up the stone steps. The Traveler heaved himself over another massively carved block before finally setting foot onto Rut'theran Village.

"Not much has changed," he mused, passing by the same houses. "Either you Kaldorei don't do much or you just like to keep things simple."

"Behave yourself," Maiev sternly ordered.

The guards immediately stepped aside. The Traveler could hear them whisper under their helms just short of breath. In contrast to the grand reception for her brother when he stepped through the portal to Darnassus, the Traveler noted the wide berth between them and everyone else. When he approached Warden Shadowsong, he saw her pausing in the middle of the street, eying the elaborate houses standing around the riverine pools carved under neat stone bridges.

Like her brother, the Traveler saw, she made the whole city stand still. He heard her heave a long sigh, which worried him. The dead air was killing him.

He cleared his throat. "Um, hello?" At least some of the non-elven folk—tourists and adventurers, he snidely discerned—bothered to keep moving.

"Darnassus," Maiev said in a voice that started to crack, unbuckling the latches to her helmet.

"And to think I would never see the day when you'll feel homesick," the Traveler grunted. Out of everything that surrounded them, he could easily tell that the Warden was the dirtiest of them all. The bends in the metal, the rips in her cloak, the bright smears of crimson and red dust all over her were more than enough to mark her as a walking attraction, standing out the most out of all the foreigners who had bothered to come here.

He just hoped he would not end up in the same basket of trouble as his companions had when they accompanied Jarod through these same streets shortly after Shalasyr's passing. He blamed that dwarven bastard who insisted on bringing along some pandaren ale.

So far, the Kaldorei had been very docile and it appeared as though they had forgotten his old antics when he last visited. Then he followed his charge to the Temple of Elune where the High Priestess stood down the steps to meet them.

"Tyrande."

"Maiev."

"Well, this is awkward," he muttered.

"Is it done?" the Priestess suddenly asked.

The Warden stared. "Yes," she replied after a long while.

The Traveler waited. And waited. And he began looking at the sights that decorated the Kaldorei capital. Before he realized it, Maiev and Tyrande had engaged in short conversation. When he finally gave attention, the Warden shuffled past him down the steps.

"Warden?" he called. She ignored him, instead disappearing behind the statues and greeneries surrounding the Temple facade. "Great. What was that all about?"

"All is forgiven," Tyrande replied, her voice sounding too close to his ear.

He eased himself slightly away. "Good for her."

"That includes you, human."

"Pardon, Priestess?"

Tyrande pointed to the fountain surrounding the intricately carved marble statue of the High Priestesses of Elune. "We have not forgotten your desecration of the Goddess' monument."

The Traveler cleared his throat. He dreaded this. "I was contributing to nature."

"Your pathetic excuses are worthless now." For some reason, the Priestess was not as displeased as he thought she would be.

He shrugged. "Alright, so I was a tad bit inebriated. We all were. But what's done is done. So where does that leave me?"

"Are you her charge?"

"What? No."

"Then why are you with her?"

He sighed. "I can't lie now, can I?" There was silence before he sighed again. "I found her sleeping by the side of the road. It was clear that she had just come out of Outland." Tyrande stared at him silently waiting for him to go on. Her silence was unnerving and he bemoaned her inquiry. "Agh! I couldn't stand her being a vagrant, alright?"

"I see. How noble of you."

"Thank you, Priestess," the Traveler said with a frown. "Pity is a virtue that I, unfortunately, cannot kill."

"Pity is a gift that many do not receive," she answered meekly. "No harm has been done. But your behavior has the potential to defile those that are pure."

"And since when did purity become..." He studied her features. "Ah, forget it. I guess I better take my leave then."

"You are free to reside here in Darnassus," Tyrande continued. "Do not abuse this privilege."

"Why would I?" he muttered, descending down the steps to find Maiev. "It's not like I would be staying long, anyway."

* * *

 **LAST EDITED: July 19, 2015**

 **UPLOADED: August 6, 2015**


	8. Chapter 8

The Traveler leaned against the doorpost. The hovel was modest; neat and elegantly decorated to accommodate guests of noble stature. He made sure to keep his back against the interior, knowing Maiev would stab him through and through if he ever showed his face while she was not "completely" dressed.

"So I heard that you left the High Priestess on a collapsing bridge," he began, gazing at the passing stream flowing in the open canal underneath.

"Did we not have this conversation before?" the Warden sneered from the lamplit room.

"I thought we would have a nice refresher topic."

Oddly, Maiev just sighed. For the past number of days that he had spent escorting her to Darnassus, he knew he would without a doubt leave him hanging by neck off a high perch if he so much as provoked anything. Now that they were in the Kaldorei heartland, he felt as though she had reversed in complete polarity.

The Traveler chanced a peek inside. All he saw was a linen-clothed back and a dark flow of scarlet hair running down over it. A pair of sharp ears protruded out of them as the glow of her eyes dimly illuminated the wall.

"I should probably look away now," he said.

"You should," she sternly agreed.

When he did, he caught Tyrande slowly approaching the steps that led to the doorway. Amid the glow of the lamps affixed all around, he could see her face dipped in a mixture of sorrow and regret. Whatever determination she was trying to display was easily marred by her indecisive walking. He guessed that there was a void between the High Priestess and the Warden after all that he had heard about the latter. And, with good reason, he concluded, Tyrande should feel a little hesitant to approach Maiev. That is, if she was going to do the apologizing which he felt she shouldn't.

She paused a few paces away. "Go on in," he mouthed.

He found it easier to read the other night elves compared to Maiev. But she was a survivor and he acquiesced to her superiority as a veteran of the horrors of demons—those of the world and those of her own. After all, she starkly reminded him of that troubled veteran Dagren who was a model example to the entirety of the Kul Tiras expedition of a soldier whose nightmares never left him.

"You have a guest," he echoed into the room.

When Maiev did not call back, he stepped aside and gestured at the Priestess to enter. Tyrande paused to collect herself. She eased into the domicile that had been hastily prepared for the former Warden of the now non-existent Kaldorei Watchers. He thought that the added prefix of former merely confirmed that the rank, title, and position of Warden was now defunct. And that meant that Maiev had nothing else... She was starting all over again, he woefully mused.

He pressed himself against the doorpost. The way the Priestess herself struggled to speak was indication enough that Maiev's future was an uncertainty. Not that he cared, no. But he was concerned. Care and concern were both different embodiments of empathy, he was firmly sure.

He only knew a few Darnassian words but he decided not to even try and comprehend what they were discussing. Though, it was mostly the High Priestess talking. Maiev was unusually quiet though he guessed that it was because she was the High Priestess.

"I appreciate your effort," Tyrande suddenly whispered, her warm breath tickling his ear.

The Traveler nearly stumbled. "What is it with you people and sneaking up behind me?"

The Priestess casually walked away. "Knowing Maiev, she would need a purpose now that she has done..." She paused. Her face was frozen as stone but her lips continued to move. "...what had to be done." She turned to him, her glowing eyes piercing into his. "Until Lord Jarod Shadowsong returns..."

Tyrande did not finish. The Traveler saw her turn her back on him and fade into the night. "Really? Is that all you're going to say?" He growled. "Come on! I only agreed to this because she needed help, okay?"

The wind whistled back at him. He walked inside.

"Damn it."

"Thank you," Maiev said.

The Traveler snapped his head at her. "What?"

The lamp was close to burning out and the night elf moved to turn the knob underneath the gasket. The room brightened and she was aware that the human could very well see the scars on her back or at least those that her undergarments would allow to be seen. She did not want to show him any more.

She felt herself choke again and she forced it down. When she finally did talk, she felt as though she had lost her voice and the force that normally came with every word had gone.

"Thank you...for your help," she croaked.

All she heard were padded footsteps against the floor and the door flying open. Maiev turned to see was alone. Looking outside, she caught the wisp of the Traveler's coat fly behind the monument. Though she wanted to, she decided not to follow him.

It had been a long journey, after all. As she lay her head on the bed, she noticed the stone above her morph into the criss-crossed ceiling of the temple in Hajiri. For a brief moment, she felt clothed in the robes of Elune's young aspiring priestess, those days now nothing but memories that were more fragile than glass. Even then, as blissful as it felt, she was reminded of the cold blanket that she had drawn over herself.

Tossing it aside, she finally closed her eyes. And the final image to grace her mind before she wafted to sleep was the unclothed face of Illidan Stormrage.

* * *

Maiev awoke to the early hours before dawn. With practiced grace honed from centuries of self-imposed training, she washed and dressed herself with the spare robes that had been provided by the city's tailors. On instinct, she felt for the rubber-bound clasp of her crescent. When she did, she pulled away, yanking the set of armor that she had piled on top of it and scattering them across the floor.

She easily tucked them back onto the table but found it difficult to depart from it. She continued to gaze at the battered helmet and the cracked shoulder mounts, running her hand along the thickly woven cloak that now bore holes of all sorts. She donned the cape and felt it slide across her bare back.

In her nostalgia, her anger bubbled and nearly flared. She hastily removed the cloak and folded it back under the helm. But her hands felt nailed onto the table, unwilling to let go of the fragmented pieces of armor that she had worn since the day she offered to be the Betrayer's guardian.

"No...jailor," she quietly corrected.

Three knocks roused her from her stupor. She saw his shadow piercing through the open window and she frowned. The door opened by itself and a gloved hand snaked around the hinges.

"My business here is done," the Traveler greeted.

"Where are you off to?"

"Away from here. I have other places to visit."

"I see."

The Traveler approached her. He scowled. "You've been crying."

Maiev turned away. She did her best to ignore him but she felt his presence still looming over her despite their shared height. She had already given her thanks; what more could she give back to this stranger who expended so much effort to guide her back home? Given what she had done and what had transpired, she guessed that no one, not even the noblest of the night elves, would willingly give themselves to aid her.

"You never bothered to introduce yourself," she said.

"Exactly. This is where we part ways. Your brother will come home soon. If ever I run into him, I'll tell him that his sister is waiting for him in Darnassus." He tapped her on the shoulder. "It's better to be in the company of a stranger than to brave the world alone. I could only imagine the horrors you had to go through but that did not mean that you had to keep it to yourself."

"You were..." She found it very difficult to find the right thing to say. If it was even the right thing... Such compliments were rare of her. But she had to say something. "...a good...companion."

The Traveler beamed. "It was...fine, while it lasted. Until we meet again, Mistress Shadowsong."

With that, he planted his knapsack into the corner and walked outside the door before she could pull him back in. Maiev once again peered through, hesitating to stop him from heading for the portal gate. She followed his fading form until she could no longer track him among the crowd. She slumped back inside, feeling just as exhausted as that day in the hall...where Illidan cursed her to his grave. Maiev did not shudder from the memory this time. She noticed the bag he left behind.

Sifting through the contents yielded only gold which she deemed worthless. The various coins were stamped with the faces of the kings of the humans and the various elven descendants of the Highborne which she would rather not cast her eyes upon. Underneath the pouch, she drew up a single scroll. Unrolling it, she could not help but feel both anger and joy as she read the Traveler's final confession in dark, drying ink:

 _May you find peace and direction, Warden. My companionship has been courtesy of your old friend Akama. You can have his gold. I'm not taking it._

* * *

The distant chorus of cheers woke Maiev from her slumber. Wiping her eyes, she lit the lamp on her table and shone it over the window sill, twisting the knob that controlled the blinds, narrowing the path of light to the street below.

There was a commotion, yes, but not one that meant trouble as was how peaceful the capital was. She could hear words of joy and well wishes until the crowds dispersed and the smooth calm of Tyrande's voice echoed ever so closely to her hovel. Then boots. Several boots. Until finally, the shape of a tall elf with an unkempt beard and long oiled hair strolled into the light of her lantern.

Maiev felt her throat squeeze out. "J-Jarod?"

Down the street, Jarod Shadowsong glanced back at High Priestess Tyrande. "She really is home..."

Tyrande nodded and gestured to the steps to the Warden's home. "She has been waiting."

Softened by the warm smiles of his men, now tired from the long journey, Jarod Shadowsong rushed up the stone steps to the doorway where Maiev stood, her dry silken nightgown barely covering the long faded scars carved across her bare skin. The very sight of her, alive and well after timeless centuries, was the most fulfilling experience in all his years of wandering aimlessly in the wilderness.

"Maiev," he breathed.

"Jarod."

"Dear sister!" He squeezed her under his arms, enveloping her completely, tears of joy and relief washing down onto her shoulders. "Maiev... I...I haven't seen you...in so long..."

And as the famed and feared Warden Maiev Shadowsong made to return his embrace, she glimpsed an illusion of the Traveler smiling contently behind the shadow of the street. It lasted for a bare second but it was enough to make her feel happy in a long, long time.

* * *

 **LAST EDITED: July 24, 2015**

 **UPLOADED: November 15, 2015**


End file.
